The World’s Tragedy

THE GARDEN OF EROS. 29 Have fled, The first flush animates the hills, Reddens the rushes, flashes on the rills. Come while the breeze blows and the air is cool Down through the forest to the Fairies’ pool. All rise and follow the sage, singing : THE COMPANY Praise Eros wittily ! Praise Eros well ! Tripping it prettily Down through the dell ! Joyous and eager Our tresses adorning, Away to beleaguer The city of morning ! Away to the leap to The soft-smiling pool Whose kisses shall creep to Us virginal cool ! Race and bescatter The dew in the grass ; The nymph and her satyr ! The lad and his lass !